


To Have and to Make

by Lenny9987



Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [72]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27434188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: Prompt: Laoghaire dies soon after marrying Jamie. Jamie introduces his two stepdaughters to Claire.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [72]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/421240
Comments: 13
Kudos: 117





	To Have and to Make

It helped that the girls stayed at home during the day, Marsali doing what she could to tutor Joanie in both reading and housework. Fergus could readily be counted upon to escort them when there were errands that needed running. They rarely stopped by the printshop without warning which meant that when Claire appeared out of the blue, Jamie had time to digest her appearance and at least begin to wonder the best way to tell her… everything. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” she remarked as she put the photographs of Brianna back in their protective wrappings. The lass looked so much like him but the vibrant ruddiness of her hair in the images of her as a wee thing brought sweet, young Joanie to mind. 

What would Claire make of the girls? What would the girls make of Claire?

“I know it’s a lot,” Claire continued, hedging drawing attention to the twenty years between them and stepping back from the gap. He looked to her, reached for her and took comfort from the fact she gave him her hand. 

“It is, as ye say,” he replied slowly. “And I ken ye’ve had time to plan what ye’d tell me and I’m only sorry I’ve not had time to think on how to tell you as neatly–”

“I already know about Ardsmuir,” Claire interrupted. “It was part of how we were able to find you.”

“Claire… What I’ve to tell ye… Ye must know first that I’ve loved none but you and I never will love another as I do you,” he said, squeezing her hands, terrified and dreading the moment he knew she would pull them away.

“ _ But _ …” she prompted him. “There is most certainly a ‘but’ coming. You’ve married someone else?” she guessed, her face falling.

He nodded and then quickly added, “But she’s passed – over a year ago, now.”

Claire visibly relaxed at that. “Do you want to tell me about her? Why did you marry her?” Curiosity and hesitation colored the questions.

“She was already ill when Jenny suggested the match. She had two young lasses and naught but a brother in precarious circumstances himself as could have taken on the care of them,” Jamie explained. “Jenny could see I needed… something… after I came back from my parole and tending to Balriggan and to the lasses – Marsali and Joanie,” he told her with a smile, “it gave me purpose again. And the lasses… I remembered what it was to lose my mam so young and sudden. Marsali was old enough to ken the way of what was happening – she tended her mother most of the time, though Jenny came to help Loaghaire through at the end. And Loaghaire did draw it out, her dying. Watching puir Joanie see that… made me grateful my own mam went quick and didna suffer.”

Claire was very still and quiet as Jamie realized he was rambling in his nervousness. 

“After she passed, it was difficult for the girls to be at Balriggan and I’d fixed it up enough to bring on tenants, so I brought them here for a fresh start.”

“You married Laoghaire Mackenzie?” she asked, hurt and betrayal dripping from her tone. 

“It was never for her sake,” he insisted. “Only for her lasses. They had next to no one and after losing you and the bairn… I ken ye must know what it felt like, even if ye only felt a fraction of what I did… And you had the bairn – Brianna – for some comfort.”

Claire was slowly shaking her head and Jamie felt his stomach drop, his chest tighten.

“I knew you must have done what you could to move on or… just survive. I  _ know _ that…” she said, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. 

“But it doesna make it easier,” he agreed. “Knowing Brianna was happy and kent a father’s love wi’ Frank doesna make it hurt less that I couldna be there to see her grow, to share the joy of her with you… And Marsali and Joanie… that’s no what I’m tryin’ to do as their Da, either. There is no replacing what’s been lost – what might ha’ been and should ha’ been… for you and me or for them. But there can be comfort and joy in what we find and make of what we  _ do _ have.”

Claire finally looked at him again, tears and uncertainty shining in her eyes. There was also an exhaustion to her bearing. She was tired of fighting, of holding her expectations and hopes at bay, of waiting to be disappointed. It was surprising to hear about Jamie’s marriage and the girls – it stung – but not in a way that felt like it would last. Laoghaire was dead. So was Frank. 

“What do you want to make of it?” she asked, a little nervous. “What is it exactly that we have?”

Jamie sighed. “I dinna ken… but the only way to find out is together. And I believe the first step of that is for ye to meet Marsali and Joanie,” he told her, rising from the floor and wincing as it felt like every joint in his body cracked with protest. 

“And what do you plan to tell them about me? About who I am?” She reached for Jamie’s hand to pull her to her feet as well.

“The truth. There’s no use lyin’ over who ye are – Fergus’ll remember ye well enough.”

“Fergus?” Claire brightened. “He’s here too?”

“Aye. He and Marsali are sweet on each other, though she’s a bit young to be thinkin’ in that direction yet. They ken it’s just a matter of time, so they’re bein’ patient about it. Fergus couldna afford to wed yet, at any rate, and Marsali’s no ready to leave Joanie on her own wi’ Laoghaire gone.”

“Fergus looking to marry…” Claire mused as Jamie prepared to close the shop. “It feels like only yesterday you brought him home from the brothel.”

“And what of Brianna? Has she a young man? Ye said Frank had passed. Is she on her own or…”

So as they left the shop and walked the streets of Edinburgh, Claire told Jamie more about Brianna – about her schooling, about Roger Wakefield, and about her own ideas of where the two of them might be headed. It was a safer topic than what lay at the other end of their walk.

But they couldn’t wander forever and eventually they reached the small house where Jamie lived with his stepdaughters. 

“Fergus keeps a room of his own nearby,” Jamie explained. “We’re no likely to see him until supper tonight, but the lasses should be in. There’s no much room – the lasses share a room and mine’s the smaller, but ye’re welcome to it and… unless perhaps ye’ll be taking a room of yer own somewhere…”

“Perhaps we can think about sleeping arrangements later,” Claire prodded, wishing to rip off the bandage that Jamie seemed content to pick at from the edges. 

“Aye,” he said with a sigh before lifting the latch and pushing open the door. “It’s only me,” he announced as he startled Joanie and Marsali. “Actually, it’s isna  _ only _ me,” he amended. “I’ve someone I want ye to meet.”

He ushered Claire in where she and the girls could see one another. 

The red hair. It was the first thing Claire saw and it caused her stomach to drop. The momentary flash of it from the corner of her eye had immediately brought Brianna at that age to her mind but then she focused on the girl’s features and they didn’t even come close to matching. The eyes were wrong, both in color and shape. The cheekbones were softer, the mouth less broad. And freckles. This girl had a far more generous dusting of them across her nose and cheeks while Briannas were rare specks forming more distinct constellations. 

The girl glanced at Claire, then to Jamie and finally looked over to her older sister who’d risen and watched Claire with a familiar wariness. In her features Claire could clearly see the influence of Laoghaire – the blonde hair and piercing judgmental gaze. 

“Marsali, Joanie… This is Claire. She’s my… well, it’s a long story and I think ye may be familiar with parts of it from my sister and perhaps from Fergus,” Jamie babbled nervously. “I was married to her before I wed yer mother. She thought I’d been killed at Culloden and I thought the same of her till now.”

“If ye married her before Mam… are ye no married to her still?” Joanie asked quietly, confused. 

Jamie turned to Claire who answered with a little uncertainty of her own, “I think so legally, but twenty years apart… we’ve a lot to figure out and decide.”

“Ye mean ye may not wish to live together after all?” Marsali chimed in hopefully, then her expression darkened. “Or do ye mean ye must decide whether ye’ll keep us on now ye’ve found one another again? I mean, if ye were wed to her before Ma and she wasna really dead… then… ye werena really wed to Ma…”

Joanie started at the thought and looked desperately to Jamie. The fear and sorrow in the child’s face tugged at Claire and she was relieved when Jamie quickly knelt before the child to comfort and reassure her. 

“Whatever happens, the two of ye are as much mine as ye would be were ye truly of my blood, so dinna fash yerselves about bein’ sent away or the like.” He glanced over his shoulder to Claire, a little concerned but also resolved. “Claire kens that where I go, the two of you go as well.”

“A package deal,” Claire murmured to herself. An instant family, should she choose. Not the one she and Jamie had hoped and planned for all those years ago. And seeing Jamie pull Joanie into a hug brought bitter tears to her eyes. 

It should have been Brianna. Not that Bree hadn’t found similar comfort in Frank’s arms. But it would have been… Whatever it would have been, she –  _ they _ – might be able to have that now. Not exactly, of course. Their time apart and their experiences would affect whatever they might make of this now. There could be no avoiding that. But it would be something after so much nothing…

Not nothing. Brianna. Could she really just waltz in and act as a mother to these two girls when her own child was now, in essence, an orphan back in her time? But Brianna wasn’t alone – not entirely. She had Roger and Joe. She had her friends and school. 

And Jamie had Joanie and Marsali, apparently, to say nothing of everyone at Lallybroch. Who did Claire have? 

Not who. What. And that what was a choice. Go or stay. Go back to what and who she’d known or stay and remake herself and her life yet again. 

She was tired and didn’t know if she could make herself do it again. If it had just been Jamie – just been a matter of rekindling what had always been there…

The door opened again, startling Claire.

“Milord? I did not think you would be home – why are you not at the printshop?” Fergus asked, flustered as he glanced to Marsali (who did not seem as surprised to see him, despite the early hour). 

Then Fergus’ gaze fell upon Claire and he froze. His eyes went wide as the color drained from his face. “Milady?” he croaked, confused. But it only lasted a moment before excited joy burst across his face and he rushed to enfold her in a hug. “You have returned! I had not thought to hope for such a miracle!”

Claire’s eyes filled with tears as she returned Fergus’ enthusiastic embrace. He must be two feet taller than when she’d last seen him – taller than she was now. His voice was deeper too but he still seemed to move with that smooth confidence and grace that had made him such an effective pickpocket all those years ago.

She pulled back to look at him better, still unable to find the words to express her wonder at the man he’d become. She lived her hands to his cheeks, her own beginning to ache from her smile.

“ _ Mon fils _ ,” she whispered. “ _ Tu es devenu un homme _ .”

“Is she yer mam then Fergus?” Joanie asked, creeping a few steps closer now that a second trusted party had vouched for Claire.

“She was the first to act as a mother to me, yes,” Fergus confirmed. He glanced briefly to Joanie before focusing his attention on Marsali, who was watching him with soft sympathy. “She was the first – after Milord – to call me ‘son’.”

Claire felt Jamie’s eyes on her before turning to meet them with her own. There was so much peace and confidence in his gaze, she felt a calm settle on her.

She could do it again, and not just for Jamie. For Fergus and Jenny and Ian and everyone else she’d left behind who might still be alive. She would do it for herself. And for Marsali and Joanie, no matter how tired she might be and difficult it might prove. They weren’t their mother and she could make sure they never let pettiness or jealousy drive them to harm anyone, themselves included. 

Joanie was pestering Fergus to tell them stories about when he’d first begun living with Jamie and Claire in Paris. It turned out Fergus had developed as grat a flair for story-telling as any born Highlander. Marsali seemed eager to be entertained and the shift in attention to Fergus provided a welcome chance for Claire to slip over to Jamie’s side. 

“I’m staying,” she whispered, leaning into his warmth as he wrapped an arm about her shoulders. A shudder of released tension rippled through him and into her.

“I’m verra glad of it, Sassenach,” he told her, his voice near to breaking.

Perhaps he hadn’t been as sure of her as he’d appeared. To further drive away any doubts in either of them, she raised herself enough to capture his lips with her own. 


End file.
